Continuation
by Tuom
Summary: The continuation of the Trigun story. Rated PG13 for slight adult themes.
1. 1

Knives sat silently as his right shoulder was being bandaged. I, of course, stood in the shadows of the doorway and watched. Meryl seemed to hate the task, as she usually did, and, from time to time, she would look up at me; confusion lingered in her shimmering eyes. I felt a smile as it came to my face, so I averted my stare to look at my brother's gun instead.  
  
It was tainted; I hated it. So I set it on a nearby table.  
  
"Why won't you say anything?" Meryl finally demanded, throwing her arms out to the sides in frustrated confusion. Her hand collided with Knives' face, and he jumped quickly to his feet. I put my hand to my holster without thinking when I remembered his wounds. Knives feel back against the wall, his face contorted with pain; I almost felt pity for him.  
  
"Nothing to say," I replied.  
  
"Well, you could explain yourself."  
  
"What's to explain?" There was a long pause, and Meryl began to pace. She was cute when she paced like that, though I dared not tell her. I probably would have been slapped, or worse.  
  
"Well, for starters, who is he?"  
  
"My brother."  
  
"Where is your coat?"  
  
"I don't need it."  
  
"Where is it?"  
  
"Somewhere."  
  
"Can't you say more than four words in a sentence?" Meryl yelled, stopping in front of me. I smiled, and she blushed.  
  
"I think so." Her shoulders slumped.  
  
"You do it to annoy me, don't you?" I looked past Meryl to Knives. It almost hurt to gaze into his cold blue eyes. The reunion with him, however, was almost comforting. He smiled, and my face burned with fear for Meryl.  
  
"Hello?" I turned my head to look at her, but, instead, I found myself looking at a hand. Meryl reminded me a lot of Rem. It hurt to look at her sometimes, but, sometimes, I loved it. I loved Meryl, but I didn't know why. She was nice; she wasn't my type. I didn't want anything to happen to her. Something always happens to the people I love. The crew, Nicholas, Knives, Rem – I couldn't bear to have anything happen to her, too, or Milly. I looked down at my watch: 1:34 AM.  
  
"You should go to sleep now. It's late." Meryl looked at me suspiciously.  
  
"Why?" I shrugged, putting on my most innocent face.  
  
"You look tired!" She yawned.  
  
"Okay, okay. Where can I sleep?" Meryl had brought up a most important point; I looked around to see only my bed. I gestured toward it in a friendly manner.  
  
"You can use mine."  
  
"Really?" she asked, her eyes gleaming. I laughed again.  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"Thank you!" she yelled, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace. Needless to say, I was surprised. Meryl let go and ran into my room. She slammed the door. I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair.  
  
"Disturbing.." Knives said suddenly from across the room, stopping me halfway across my head.  
  
"What?" I asked sincerely. He motioned toward the closed door.  
  
"The girl."  
  
"Oh.."  
  
"Do you enjoy her company?"  
  
"I don't know," I said quickly with a laugh, "I guess I do." Knives smiled menacingly; it made my blood run cold.  
  
"She's pretty."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"You think so, too?" I stared at him, and he stared at me. "Do you care about her, Vash?" I turned my head to the side.  
  
"That's none of your business."  
  
"She looks like Rem." I looked back.  
  
"So you noticed it, too."  
  
"I'll even be willing to bet that she thinks like Rem."  
  
"If she does, I haven't noticed it."  
  
"I think you're lying. I saw the way you looked at her when she hugged you."  
  
"She's my friend."  
  
"I recognized the look."  
  
"I think she likes me."  
  
"It was the same look you gave Rem when she stopped us from fighting."  
  
"I didn't give her any special look."  
  
"And when she saved us from getting shot."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"And when she left us to save the pathetic humans." I opened my mouth to retort, but I stopped myself when I realize that I had given Rem a surprised look before crying. I hung my head.  
  
"They aren't pathetic," I finally managed to whisper. "They just need guidance." I looked up again; Knives was smiling in what seemed to be a sincere way.  
  
"Go to her."  
  
"What?" I asked a bit more loudly than I had intended. Knives nodded.  
  
"Go to her," he said. Then, lowering his voice to a whisper, he added, "You both want it. I can tell."  
  
"But—?"  
  
"Go on." I looked over to the closed door and sighed. I walked over and pulled it open; Meryl fell at my feet. She looked up at me, grinning nervously as she scrambled to her feet.  
  
"H—Hi there, Vash!" she said, her eyebrow twitching with embarrassment. I smiled at her, and she blushed.  
  
I lay there, breathing quietly, as Meryl ran her fingers over one of the many scars on my chest as she slept. I looked down at her raven hair, and I closed my eyes; Rem's face came to my mind, and she was smiling. I smiled too. My hand slowly brought itself to Meryl's head, and my fingers parted through her hair.  
  
I sat up slowly, as not to disturb her sleep, and pulled on my shirt. I couldn't take advantage of her, not when I knew how much she cared for me. As I turned around, I noticed Knives standing in the doorway.  
  
"So, did you?" he asked sweetly. I shook my head.  
  
"How could I?"  
  
"Thought for sure you would."  
  
"I didn't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I—."  
  
"Because you what?" I brushed past him and into main room, and I flung myself onto the couch to think. 


	2. 2

I woke up, having fallen to the floor. Rubbing my head, I slowly climbed back onto the couch and yawned. I stopped halfway through a stretch when my eyes fell upon Knives: He sat in the same chair as last night, staring intently at me.  
  
"I see you're awake," he murmured, his signature smile creeping onto his face. I turned my head to the side arrogantly.  
  
"I see you've noticed," I retorted. I looked back again and flashed a mocking glance. Knives arched an eyebrow and looked over to the partially opened door, where Meryl was sleeping.  
  
"So."  
  
"So what?"  
  
"Why didn't you?" I smiled at him indignantly.  
  
"Because I don't have to." I paused to recompose myself. "Why do you care?"  
  
"Just looking after my brother," he responded with a shrug. "I care about my brother." Knives looked at the door again.  
  
"Don't even think about it," I growled as I stood and walked over to the window. I stared out at the lifeless earth and sighed.  
  
"Don't think about.. what?" Knives asked, his voice lowering to a whisper.  
  
"Hurting Meryl."  
  
"I wouldn't dare."  
  
"Wouldn't you?" I turned and stared at him coldly. Our eyes hadn't met like this in a long time, and I shuddered and looked away. A long, awkward silence hung heavily in the air until Milly burst through the door noisily.  
  
"Hello!" she yelled happily. I jumped and turned around; Knives was laying on the couch with his eyes closed.  
  
"Hi, Milly," I said, smiling. I walked over to her and took hold of one of the bags she was carrying.  
  
"Thank you!" she chirped; I shuddered. Her perpetual happiness was somewhat frightening at this hour of the morning.  
  
"What's this?" I asked as I peered into the bag. "Clothes?"  
  
"For your friend!"  
  
"I told her to get him some normal clothes," Meryl said angrily from the doorway to my room, "so people wouldn't think he was stupid or something." I glanced at Knives; his eyebrow was twitching in fury. I laughed loudly and tapped his head.  
  
"Wake up, Knives! We come bearing gifts for you!" I cried, dancing around the couch quite stupidly. He jumped to his feet and pulled my gun from its holster as I grabbed his from the table; both of us had the other's gun pressed against the other's head.  
  
"Anxious, Knives?" I whispered.  
  
"Think you'll get lucky again, Vash?" he whispered back. Suddenly, I felt a cold pressure on my temple. Knives saw it and grinned until a gun was pressed against his, too.  
  
"Standard risk prevention procedure #483," Meryl growled. "Drop your weapons and sit down." Knives and I looked at eachother.  
  
"She has a point," I said.  
  
"Are you going to listen to that—?"  
  
"Now!" she screamed loudly, pressing her derringers more firmly against their heads. "Drop them!"  
  
"On the count of three?" he asked.  
  
"One," I said.  
  
"Two," he replied.  
  
"Three!" I placed his gun back onto the table, and he placed mine back into its holster. Milly squeaked from behind the couch, where she had taken cover. Meryl sighed.  
  
"I hope the rest of our time together isn't spent like this," she growled, glaring at Knives. He smiled and kissed her hand. "I am—."  
  
"Go to sleep, dearest lady," he said smoothly. She blinked and decided it was best not to retort. Meryl backed into my room, dragging Milly with her, and slammed the door shut. 


	3. 3

I looked at Knives curiously as he sat down in his chair again. He ran his fingers through his hair carelessly, and it fell back into its original state of sloppy perfection afterwards. Knives leaned back and closed his eyes.  
  
"Lady?" He opened one.  
  
"You don't think she's a lady, Vash?"  
  
"I—I do," I stammered, "but—?"  
  
"But what, Vash? You obviously don't seem to care for her." Knives closed his eye once again and smiled. "She sure is pretty." I felt my face grow hot, and my ears began to tingle.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Don't get me wrong, she is pathetic. You know, being human and everything."  
  
"But—?"  
  
"But she's of a different class than the rest of those pests," Knives continued. "She's special." I narrowed my eyes.  
  
"Leave Meryl alone."  
  
"Why should I?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at me inquisitively. I remained silent. "Why should I pretend to ignore her just because you do?"  
  
"You don't love her."  
  
"What makes you say that, Vash? Why shouldn't I?" Then, lowering his voice to a whisper, he added, "I do love her."  
  
"No you don't!" I yelled, clutching the icy handle of my gun. Wrath surged through my right arm, causing my hand to twitch violently. Knives looked at me with concern.  
  
"Can't you recognize love when you see it?" I glared at him. "I tried letting you have her, since you're so obviously her first choice."  
  
"What do you want with her?" Knives gestured carelessly, as if to give in.  
  
"But, since you so obviously don't share her emotions—."  
  
"No!" I found myself pressing my gun against his head. Knives' eyes filled with compassion.  
  
"Don't hate me for loving her, Vash." I gritted my teeth, but loosened the pressure my finger had been applying to the trigger.  
  
"You don't," I growled, pulling the gun away from his head and pushing it angrily into its holster. I walked toward the front door and opened it. I paused in the doorway. "You don't know how to love."  
  
"Can you be sure?" I slammed the door to these words, though they rang loudly through my ears. I was sure, but I didn't know if I was right.  
  
"Damn him," I grumbled as I fell down into the rocking chair on the porch. I stared up at my moon. "And damn me, too." 


	4. 4

I gently rocked, back and forth, and listened to the night: Silence. Silence meant solitude, and solitude is security. At least, that is, for me. I stood up; the chair, at first violently loud upon being disrupted, slowly came to a stop to again restore the former quiet. I walked up and leaned against the railing that surrounded the porch.  
  
"How long has it been since I last had a donut?" I suddenly asked aloud. The scurrying of cats on the roof silenced me, but I had to laugh at myself.  
  
"Only a true addict would say something like that! I haven't had a decent drink in months, and all I can think about is the last time I had donuts!" I laughed again. I quickly stepped to the side as a boot came flying at me from a window across the street, and, once again, I was silenced.  
  
I looked around at the emptiness that surrounded me, and I suddenly wished I hadn't left my coat behind. Shivering, I walked back inside; Knives was still standing where he had been before.  
  
"That took longer than I had expected," he observed quietly. I shrugged and fell upon the couch tiredly.  
  
"What time is it?" I asked carelessly, trying to fool him into thinking that I had forgotten what had happened a short while ago. Knives looked at the clock.  
  
"Almost 11." I stretched again. "I suppose I should make an attempt at breakfast."  
  
"What?" I asked, straightening out once again. Knives shrugged.  
  
"It's the least I can do. You know, invading this lovely home and annoying the lovely ladies listening to me in the next room." Girlish giggles protruded from behind the closed door. Knives smiled at me; I just blinked.  
  
"How did you—?"  
  
"One begins to catch on to these things when one has been confined for so long as I have." Knives immediately went to the second bag that Milly had brought in several hours ago and rummaged through it. He pulled out a box of donuts. I made a strange sound and leapt from the couch, snatching the box in mid-air. Pushing my foot against the wall, I force-flipped over Knives' head and landed neatly behind him.  
  
"You always were the show-off," he laughed, taking a carton of milk from the bag, which was followed by a box of eggs and some bacon.  
  
"An' aways wiw beh," I said, my mouth filled to its enormous capacity with donuts. Knives looked at me from over his shoulder and grinned. The warmth emitting from them made me curious, but my thoughts were immediately ceased when his gun flew across the room and slammed into my face. I flew back and fell over the couch, and the gun slid across the floor. Knives stopped it with his foot.  
  
"Nice catch, Vash," he said, turning back to the stove. I sat up, my head throbbing with pain, and saw Meryl standing in the doorway: She was watching Knives.  
  
"Breakfast!" Milly yelled from behind her. She pushed Meryl out of the way and began to help Knives. Well, she would be helping if taking over were considered helping. Meryl's gaze finally drifted my way.  
  
"Did you eat all the donuts?" I swallowed them quickly and jumped to my feet.  
  
"Of course not!" I declared rigidly. She sighed. Her fist dug into her pocket, and she pulled out $$10.  
  
"Then go buy some more." I relaxed my shoulders and snatched the money from her hands.  
  
"Be back soon!" I called cheerily as I backed towards the front door. Knives flashed me a frighteningly happy smile; I stopped.  
  
"What's wrong, Mr. Vash?" Milly asked, blinking at me.  
  
"Um, uh, nothing! Where should I get the donuts?"  
  
"The store down—," Meryl began.  
  
"Great! Come with me!" I interrupted, grabbing her arm and pulling her out the door. As I kicked the door shut with the last of my fake happiness, I lowered my voice to a whisper and added, "Don't trust him." Meryl pulled away.  
  
"Just because he thinks I'm pretty doesn't mean I can't trust him, Vash the Stampede," she responded, turning her head to the side indignantly. "At least someone gives me respect besides Milly." I sighed. Maybe I was wrong after all.  
  
"Damn me again," I grumbled to myself, "I just hope she's right." I looked up to see Meryl halfway down the road. I cried out and scrambled to catch up with her. 


	5. 5

Meryl and I returned to find Knives and Milly deep in conversation. I gritted my teeth as a watched his eyes glinting with passion, and I decided that I was correct in my assumption. The only problem is I couldn't tell anyone who would believe me. No one else knew Knives the way I do, so no one else could possibly understand this type of behavior from him, either. I sighed and leaned against the wall as Meryl walked past me and set the box of donuts on the table in the kitchen.  
  
"Did he give you much trouble, Ms. Meryl?" Knives asked thoughtfully, looking past Milly to me. I turned my head to look into the corner; it was collecting dust. Meryl shrugged.  
  
"I can't really tell when he is or isn't giving me trouble anymore, Mr. Knives," she replied sarcastically. Knives laughed.  
  
"You're funny," he responded softly, standing up. (It's a shame she has to be eliminated, isn't it Vash?) My head snapped to the front again. (I was beginning to become tolerant of her pathetic race.)  
  
(You wouldn't dare, Knives. Not with me here.) I narrowed my eyes at him, and he smiled back.  
  
(Wouldn't I?)  
  
(I beat you once. I can beat you again.)  
  
(You beat me by chance. Remember?)  
  
(You're not going to do anything to either Meryl or Milly. Understand?)  
  
(There's nothing you can do to prevent it, unless you are considering the option of murder.)  
  
(Shut up!)  
  
(I'm going to kill them, Vash, and save you from their confinement. We could be great again because I'm willing to give you a second chance. You can't save everyone. You couldn't save Rem..)  
  
(Shut up!!)  
  
(What makes you think you can save Meryl, if you couldn't save Rem?)  
  
With that, I pulled my gun from its holster and fired. All I could hear was that final thought ringing through my head, but I watched both Milly and Meryl fall to the floor in panic. Knives wiped the blood that was seeping from the scratched left when my bullet grazed his cheek. The gun was shaking in my hand, but I kept it where it was.  
  
"You're not going to hurt anyone, Knives," I growled, my eyes growing hot. He scowled at me.  
  
"I was going to give you a chance," he whispered as he pulled Meryl to her feet. "But you ruined it for yourself. I'm sorry it had to be this way, but you leave me no choice."  
  
Having said this, Knives pulled the black gun from his pocket and pressed it against the back of Meryl's head.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" she yelled at him, trying unsuccessfully to twist out of his grip. He lifted the gun slightly, and then hit it against her head with a small fraction of his strength. She fell limply into his arms, and he flung her over his shoulder. Knives pointed the gun at Milly.  
  
"Get up!" he commanded. I stood, stunned, where I had been, my arm having automatically lowered itself. Knives looked at me angrily, and he pulled a small black ball from his other pocket.  
  
"Enjoy," is the last word I heard before a red light flashed before my eyes and I fell heavily to the ground.  
  
After some time had passed, apparently, I opened my eyes again and propped myself up. They were all gone, but I was still holding my gun. I looked at it.  
  
"Damn it," I grumbled. "I hate it when I'm right." 


	6. 6

I'm sorry if any of you are upset with the events of this chapter, but please understand that it had to be done in order to continue my story.  
  
Sorry to all the Milly fans!! -.-  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I rose to my feet and looked around more carefully. I was wrong about them all being gone, because Milly laying on the couch; her hands and feet were tied, and she had been gagged. A placed my gun into its holster and bent over to untie her.  
  
"Thank you!" she cried happily, flinging her arms around my neck. I feel over the back of the couch and lay sprawled on the floor for a few minutes.  
  
"You're welcome," I muttered. "Do you know where they went?" She shook her head as she sat up. I jumped to my feet and began to pace.  
  
"Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Not now, Milly. Now, where could they have gone? Not back to one of the major cities, because he'd be too obvious there; But not necessarily. He might have--."  
  
"Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Not now! Now, where was I.. oh yes! Knives might have taken Meryl to where we fought. That would make sense. In fact, that makes too much sense. He wouldn't take her there. Now, maybe--."  
  
"MR. VASH!!"  
  
"What?" I asked, still pacing.  
  
"There's a note on your back," she replied gently, pointing at me. I stopped walking, and my hand shot to my back. Sure enough, a piece of paper had been stuck to the back of my shirt. I pulled it off and began to read aloud.  
  
"I'm sorry that things had to go this way, but your mind had been so tainted by those insects that it left me no choice but to render you unconscious. It was the only way I could possibly force you to allow me to do what is best for you. Because you have been exposed to their idiocy for so long, you have absorbed many of their weak traits. Don't sympathize with them, Vash. This is for your own good. However, if you must save the day (as usual), I'm where you betrayed me the first time. Feel free to stop by." I crumpled the paper in my fist and threw it across the room. I spun on my heel and pulled open the door; I found myself staring into Knives' eyes; his gun was pressed against my shoulder.  
  
"Going somewhere, brother?" he asked dryly.  
  
"Only to find you," I replied. "Where is Meryl?" He laughed and pulled his gun away, sliding it gently into its holster.  
  
"Where I said she was."  
  
"What did you do to her?"  
  
"She isn't dead--."  
  
"What did you do to her?!"  
  
"—yet."  
  
"What do you mean, 'yet?'"  
  
"She'll be dead soon; unless, of course, you hurry to save her. As we speak, her precious life-giving blood is flowing from her tiny body, staining the earth where it was stained so long ago with my blood. And I did it with one of your bullets, Vash, so she can feel the pain I felt."  
  
"Damn you!" I cried, lunging at him. Knives stepped to the side, and I tumbled down the stairs.  
  
"You'd better hurry, if you want her to live. Just remember: You can't save everyone." I pushed myself back to my feet and ran. Knives turned and leaned against the doorpost.  
  
"Well done, Ms. Milly," he said. She nodded.  
  
"Just carrying out orders, sir," she replied. Knives nodded in return and stepped inside, pulling his gun from its holster.  
  
"You're a very good actress," he added as he cocked his gun expressionlessly. "However, your importance to me has come to an end."  
  
"Knives!"  
  
"You are no longer necessary. Farewell, Ms. Milly." With that, Knives pulled the trigger. Milly stumbled back against the wall before falling heavily to the floor. Knives turned again to watch Vash running.  
  
"You should have taken my advice, brother. Now, one of your friends will die, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it." 


	7. 7

It astonished me to find just how close to that cliff-like hill the town was, but I didn't let that get in the way of finding Meryl. I looked around frantically, and my eyes finally found a small trail of blood. I followed it; Knives had told me the truth.  
  
Meryl lay face down in the dust, and her right shoulder lying in a growing pool of blood. I felt my eyes grow hot as I knelt next to her. I reached out my hand hesitantly and touched her neck: it was still warm. After doing so, I gently turned her over, being careful not to touch her wound. She opened her eyes as soon as she was on her back, and she looked at me vacantly.  
  
"Vash," she said slowly. I could feel the hot tears streaming down my face, but I made no effort to brush them away.  
  
"I'm sorry this happened," I replied softly. It sounded stupid, but it was the only thing I could think of to say to her.  
  
"My shoulder hurts, Vash."  
  
"I know, Meryl. You've been shot."  
  
"I know." Having said this, I tenderly lifted her into my arms and rose to my feet.  
  
"I guess you were right about Knives," she whispered, closing her eyes and pressing her head against my chest. A feeling of weakness came over me, but I also felt stronger. I began to walk back to town slowly, as not to hurt Meryl.  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't believe you."  
  
"You couldn't. Only I could have known."  
  
"Knives said that I was a fool--."  
  
"You shouldn't speak, Meryl. Save your energy." The blood was oozing down my arm now, and I knew that I had to get her medical attention soon. I couldn't lose someone I loved again, not if I could prevent it.  
  
By the time we reached town, I could feel that Meryl was slipping. So, I quickened my pace. Meryl was groaning with pain, but I wouldn't slow down. It was better for her to be in pain than to be dead. When we reached the house, I kicked in the door and set Meryl on the couch.  
  
As I went to get the bandages, I noticed a smear of red on the wall near the kitchen door. I looked down to see Milly clutching her left shoulder in pain.  
  
"Milly!" I cried out, dropping to the floor to help her.  
  
"Save— Meryl—Vash," she stammered. I nodded and retrieved the bandages from the kitchen. I ran back to Meryl and gently pulled the clothing away from the wound. The bullet had gone all the way through, so I pressed my hand as hard as I could against it. After doing this, I took a small piece of the bandages left from Knives and tied it tightly just above her wound.  
  
I forced her to sit up, with the help of the couch, and bandaged her shoulder firmly. I then propped her arm up and tied another bit of the bandaging around her other shoulder to hold it against her lower chest in a sling-like way. I looked back at Milly, who was trying to stand. I fell to my knees to assist her.  
  
"What happened, Milly?" I asked. She swallowed and looked at me sadly.  
  
"I'm sorry, Vash. This is all my fault."  
  
"Where's Knives?"  
  
"He left."  
  
"Where did he go?"  
  
"He didn't tell me. Please forgive me, Vash."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"I've been helping him."  
  
"What?!" I cried out incredulously. Milly nodded.  
  
"It's true," she murmured. "Ever since Nicholas and I—." She fell back against the wall in a fit of sobbing. I stared at her sternly.  
  
"You've been helping Knives."  
  
"Yes. I'm sorry--."  
  
"Nicholas was helping Knives."  
  
"Yes.."  
  
"Why does everyone side against me!" I cried out in frustration as I punched the wall as hard as I could. My fist went through the wood, scratching my arm and sending a small spray of splinters upon Milly's head. She yelped in surprise, and her hand shot immediately to her shoulder. I pulled my arm from the wall and tossed her the roll of bandages remaining from Meryl. Finally, after a few minutes in silence, I ventured another question.  
  
"Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" Milly nodded.  
  
"You know where he is," she replied. I nodded and looked at Meryl.  
  
"Don't let anything happen to her." At Milly's nod, I turned and walked through the still opened door. As I closed it behind me, I pushed my sunglasses over my eyes and stared up at the sky.  
  
"This one's for you, Rem." 


	8. 8

As I was walking through the desert, I suddenly wished that I hadn't left my coat behind when I brought Knives to be healed. The suns beat down on my head and shoulders mercilessly, and I had drunk the last drop of the water that I had brought hours ago; I held the canteen loosely by the short leather strap as was dragging it, my shoulders hunched  
  
forward and mouth slightly opened.  
  
I was happy to find a rock large enough that it cast a shadow for me to sit in. The sand was still warm, but it was less torturous than the sand in the full sun. I leaned against the rock and closed my eyes, and I suppose I must have fallen asleep because, when I opened them again, the moons had replaced the suns, and I was very cold. I looked up at the starless sky and smiled as I removed my sunglasses.  
  
"How are you, Rem?" I said aloud. I shook my head and stood up; now I really wished I hadn't left my coat, because it was cold. I trudged on, the canteen slung across my shoulder. As I walked, I stared at the sand just in front of me.  
  
"So unforgiving," I whispered, closing my eyes, as they grew too hot to keep open. I felt two large tears roll down my cheeks, and I reached up to wipe them away. As I drew my hand away, I felt two sharp pains, one in each shoulder; I looked over to the right to see a bullet piercing through my black shirt. I fell to my knees and watched the blood seep down my sleeves and onto the sand; my head swam with dizziness, and I collapsed breathlessly onto the sand as I lost all feeling in my arms.  
  
As I lost consciousness, I heard the signature laugh of my brother. The sound made me feel sick to my stomach, or at least the smell of my blood mixing with the sand did. Knives rolled me over onto my back with his foot.  
  
"Vash the Stampede," he whispered, chuckling to himself. "Who would have ever thought that someone like you would be humbled by his previously defeated brother?"  
  
"You," I spat at him, though it sounded more like a cough than a retort. Knives stooped down and grabbed my shirt.  
  
"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?!" I looked up at him, my eyes seeming to be in a vacant stare, and grinned stupidly. He brought his free hand up by his ear and slapped me across the face with, at least, half of his strength; Knives had always had a way of hitting me in just the right way that it made my eye feel as if it was going to come out of it's socket, and now was no exception.  
  
"Why?!" he screamed again as my head slowly came back to its original place. I smiled at him again, but stopped as he moved his hand back.  
  
"Because I'm not you." Knives snorted and hit me anyway, only this time he released my shirt; I fell face first into the sand, and that hurt worse than having his knuckles on my cheek. He grabbed the back of my collar and began to drag me across the rocky desert, and, after several blows to the head from small rocks that lay discreetly buried under the sand, my nausea and faintness passed, leaving me with a dull, throbbing headache. That, mixed with the numbness that was spreading from my arms to the rest of my body, was enough to make me wish I were dead.  
  
Knives, undoubtedly, would take care of that, if nothing else.  
  
I bit my lip as my left hand was sliced open on a sharp rock, and the pain lingered on until we reached the town that I had left a few hours before. By then, the cut had sealed itself, leaving only the tingling sensation in the tips of my fingers.  
  
Hell, at least I could feel something…  
  
"I see you took the time to honor your fallen comrades," my brother declared, pausing in front of our house. I didn't even look over my shoulder, because I knew they weren't dead; but Knives didn't have to know. I had only a moment to think of what Milly and Meryl could possibly be planning before being pulled to my feet and forced up the stairs. Knives pushed open the door and flung me inside.  
  
"I'm sorry it had to end like this, Vash, but, you understand…" Knives pulled out his black gun and placed it against my head. Just then, a feminine figure, dressed all in black, jumped from the ceiling and landed on Knives' shoulders. He cried out in surprise before throwing her to the floor, and Meryl and Milly leapt at him from behind the door. They had him subdued in the few short seconds that it took for me to pull myself into a sitting position.  
  
"What the hell?!" Knives spat, squirming in a useless attempt to free himself from the ropes that Meryl had tied around his wrists and ankles.  
  
"What, are you surprised that you could be taken down by some girls?" Milly asked, some fury finding its way into her usual cheery voice.  
  
"I swear, I'll—!"  
  
"—Kill us?" Meryl finished for him with a laugh. "Oh, but you forget, Mr. Knives, that you already killed us. We're dead. Didn't you see the graves outside?" Milly laughed before hitting Knives upon the head with his gun; he was knocked unconscious immediately. The woman who had served as the distraction for Meryl and Milly rose to her feet with a hand rubbing her head. She extended her free hand to me, and I took it, allowing her to help me to stand.  
  
"Aurora Jones at your service, Mr. Vash the Stampede," she stated, nodding her head in a sort of reverence. Aurora brushed some of her red hair from her face; she was beautiful, and I was in love.  
  
Again.  
  
"Ms. Jones is an ex-bounty hunter, Vash," Meryl explained as Milly tended to my wounds. "Without her help, we never would have been able to pull this thing off."  
  
"Thank you, Ms. Jones, for assisting my friends in the saving of my life," I said to Aurora, my eyes sparkling in the dim light. She blushed as I flashed her my winning smile.  
  
"No, thank you, Vash. I never thought I would ever get to meet you. You see, I was one of the many bounty hunters out to get you, but I am, I'm sure, one of the only ones who has ever actually found you."  
  
"I had no idea that such beautiful women were hunting me down along with the usual ugly brigade!" I called out, only half-joking.  
  
"Don't worry— I'm retired."  
  
Milly yawned, and I took that opportunity to slink into my room. As I slid the lock into place, I began to think of ways to escape this bounty hunter. I knew who she was, and she was aware of that. Such a joint knowledge could be vital as well as deadly, but I knew that the infamous Aurora Jones wasn't retired, and definitely wasn't going to be easy to beat. 


	9. 9

I closed my eyes after I lay down on my bed, and, when I opened them again, daylight was streaming through the single window in my room.  
  
"Did I fall asleep?" I asked stupidly, rubbing my head as I sat up. I looked at the door; it was still locked. I breathed a sigh of relief and I stood up to unlock the door when my eye caught sight of something red. I turned my head to the side and saw that Aurora was sitting in my chair.  
  
"Aiya!" I cried in surprised. She opened her eyes and looked at me wearily.  
  
"What?" she asked, her words slurred together.  
  
"What are you doing in my room?!"  
  
"Trying to kill you. What did it look like I was doing!" Aurora threw a pillow at me; it hit me in the face.  
  
"You're trying to kill me?!" I ran around the small room, screaming like a girl and waving my arms around frantically.  
  
"Idiot! Do you want to wake your brother up?" She caught me by one of my flailing arms and, drawing my gun from its holster, pushed me against the wall. Aurora pressed my gun against the center of my forehead and placed her hand over my mouth.  
  
"Memphmoph!"  
  
"What?" She stepped back.  
  
"I said 'get off me!'" I pushed her against the opposite wall and pinned her there by the shoulders. Aurora looked at me through her blue eyes and smiled slightly.  
  
"I never thought I'd live to see the day when I was alone in a room with Vash the Stampede. The only reason I wanted to be a bounty hunter was because I wanted to see you, Vash. Besides, you're cute when you're angry, and even cuter when you're scared!" She leaned forward and planted a small kiss on my cheek. My head began to spin and I collapsed to the floor.  
  
"Marry me, bounty hunter!"  
  
"Not a chance in the world, bounty." She helped me to my feet and slid the lock back. "Oh, and I left a present on your bed. You'll have to wear it if you want to work with me." Having said this, Aurora slipped through the door and closed it behind her. I opened the package and pulled out a large, black jacket, much like the red one that I had lost. I put it on-it fit perfectly-and followed her into the main room.  
  
Knives was tied up in the chair in the corner, and he was awake. I looked at him curiously.  
  
"Comfortable?" I asked. He glared at me and lunged forward. The chair almost fell over, but he leaned back just in time to stop it. I smiled. Aurora sat on the couch and looked at him.  
  
"What would you do if I set you free right now, Knives?" she asked.  
  
"I would kill you," was his cold retort.  
  
"That's not very nice."  
  
"I'm not very nice."  
  
"Oh, but you are! You're the nicest plant in the whole wide world! In any case, I have your gun, so you'd have to rely on you raw skills to kill me." Aurora leaned forward and pinched his cheek. I groaned and walked into the kitchen. She looked back at the empty doorway and then at Knives.  
  
"Would you really kill me if I let you go?" she added, lowering her voice to a whisper.  
  
"Probably."  
  
"But don't you want your brother dead?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"If you want him dead, Knives, then you're going to have to lure him into a trap. To lure him into a trap, you're going to need bait. What better bait than a hostage? I would make a good damsel in distress, and I need the bounty."  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
"We should team up on this one. I know you don't like working with others, but I'm not like the others you've worked with. Nothing and no one is as devious and deadly as a woman, except maybe for you. I have a motorcycle across the road at my place; we can use that. Now, when I cut you lose, knock me out with your gun and start running. The bike is ready. All you have to do is turn the key."  
  
Aurora placed Knives' gun on the table in front of her and pulled a knife from her boot. After the ropes that were binding him to the chair were slit, Knives picked up the gun and brought it down against the back of Aurora's head; she fell limply into his waiting arms. He flung her over his shoulder and walked out the door.  
  
"See you, Vash!" he called loudly, sitting on the motorcycle with Aurora in front of him. Turning the key to start the engine, he sped off into the desert, leaving me alone in the opened front doorway. 


	10. 10

For a while, I just stood there in the doorway, wondering if it were better this way or not. It took a while for the 'I can't let innocents die' sentiment to creep forward from the back of my mind, but it eventually got there. I walked back into the kitchen and, fingering the gun in my pocket lightly, nodded to Milly.  
  
"What's wrong Mr. Vash?" she asked loudly. Meryl looked up from her papers.  
  
"Knives got free, and he has Aurora," I replied softly, fishing my sunglasses from my other pocket and pushing them over my nose.  
  
"What?" Meryl rose from her seat as she spoke.  
  
"I'm going after them." My answer was a little too straightforward, even for me, so I could be sure that they were going to protest. I decided it would be a good plan for me to leave before they began their attempts to change my mind.  
  
I had barely made it outside the door when I felt something tugging at my coat. I looked back; it was Meryl. I could have guessed without looking, but something had compelled me to see if it was she or not.  
  
"Vash!" Meryl yelled as she tugged at my sleeve. I pulled it from her grasp and continued down the long road after Knives. I didn't look to see if Meryl was following me or not, and I didn't have to. She ran ahead and stopped in front of me; I stopped and looked down at her.  
  
"You can't go."  
  
I arched an eyebrow from behind my sunglasses and smirked a bit. Meryl reached into her coat and pulled out a derringer, but I grabbed her wrist before she could move it towards me. We stared at eachother as her eyes began to water.  
  
"I-- I don't want you to leave, Vash," Meryl stammered as she broke our eye contact. I released her arm and, pushing her aside, began walking again.  
  
It took a while before I reached the spot where I had found Meryl the day before, though then sand was just now covering up the sun-dried blood from the bullet wound she had received from Knives. Just the thought of it made me want to kill someone or vomit.  
  
I kept both feelings inside; they would have to wait until I found Knives.  
  
It wasn't until later that afternoon that I realized that I had no way of tracking Knives and Aurora in the desert. I cursed my own stupidity aloud but kept on walking, hoping that I was headed in the right direction.  
  
Night fell sooner than I had expected, though I had also expected to be tracking Knives' trail through the desert. I had been walking for several hours without water or donuts, and the mere thought of that was demoralizing. I was beginning to wonder if turning back now would be a good plan or not.  
  
"Damn it!" I yelled loudly as my foot caught on something beneath the sand. I fell face first to the ground; the force of the landing brought a grimace to my face, but I pushed myself up to my hands and knees quickly. I turned around and began brush the sand from whatever it was I had tripped over.  
  
A motorcycle.  
  
I rubbed my arms slightly as a chill ran through them. They could have left it here hours ago, though the possibility of their having just left it was still great. I jumped to my feet and continued on in the same direction.  
  
"You're getting awfully close, Vash," a voice called out from somewhere in the near distance; it was Knives. "I would advice your stopping, unless you want this spider to die."  
  
I stopped, cringing at his use of the word 'spider.'  
  
"Come out, Knives," I commanded, scanning the desert for any signs of him. Just then, a feminine figure appeared from behind a large hill of sand. Aurora stumbled toward me, gripping her left arm tightly. I looked past her head slightly and just in time to see Knives slink out from behind the dune as well. I pulled my gun out and pushed Aurora aside.  
  
"Knives," I called with a slight smirk.  
  
"Vash," he replied dryly, his gun pulled as well.  
  
"What an interestingly familiar position this is."  
  
"Only this time you don't have your little spider to save you."  
  
"Wanna bet?" a voice called out from behind me. It was Meryl. I couldn't help but smile, though her presence here concerned me. She had been in enough danger with Knives tied to a chair, and now he was free and armed.  
  
Shit.  
  
"Do I really have to kill you again?" Knives asked.  
  
Shit.  
  
"I don't think it'll come to that," she replied coolly.  
  
Shit.  
  
"What say you, Vash?" Knives smirked. "Don't worry, I'll answer for you."  
  
He pulled his gun upwards slightly and pulled the trigger.  
  
"Shit!" I yelled, jumping into the bullet's path. It punctured through the lower left part of my torso and went all the way through. I hit the ground awkwardly and, unintentionally, fired once; two shots sounded  
  
Aurora fell back into the sand, and Knives was on his knees, staring down at his bleeding stomach. I looked back at Meryl; she was holding two derringers she had a shocked expression. She looked down at me.  
  
"Are you alright, Vash?" Meryl asked. When I didn't respond, she made a summoning gesture; Milly appeared, carrying a large bag. They both came to me, but I motioned for them to tend to Knives and Aurora. I just stared up at the sky and smiled, trying not to pay much attention to the throbbing bullet wound in my side.  
  
Shot twice in two days. Heh, I've had worse.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I'm really sorry that it took this long to post.. and I hope the style of writing used in this particular chapter is somewhat better than in some of the previous chapters.. I think the last line is kinda funny, but that's just me. *sigh*  
  
Should I write another, or is ten a decent number of chapters to have written? 


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